Shattered
by The Epic Sparkles
Summary: After everyone is required to go home for the holidays, Harry Potter comes back as an empty shell of what he was before. No real emotions, no spark, nothing. The only people that seem to be able to pick up all the broken pieces are our favorite snarky Slytherins. What happens when they uncover secrets Harry has been hiding for years? After Ootp, doesn't follow last 2 books.
1. Prolouge

**Author's Note: First story, please be nice! I'm kind of trying things out, I may or may not know what I'm doing. You have been warned!**

**Also, this is just an idea I had. Tell me what you think?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, sadly.**

**(Was that OK?)**

**Summary: After everyone is required to go home for the winter-holidays, Harry Potter comes back as an empty shell of what he was before. No real emotions, no spark, nothing. The only people that seem to be able to pick up all the broken pieces of The-Boy-Who-Lived are our favorite snarky Slytherins. What happens when they uncover secrets Harry has been successful in hiding for years? After Ootp, doesn't follow the last 2 books. Rated for abuse and language.**

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><p>The Hogwarts Express was about to leave the station, bringing a trainload of students to the school of magic. Parents were waving teary good-byes, and children waved back from the windows, except those who thought they were too good for that 'baby stuff'. Friends reunited after the summer vacation. News was exchanged, like the rumors spread around by the Daily Prophet. Harry watched the bitter (for the parents who wouldn't get to see their precious babies till Christmas), but mostly sweet event from under a hood that hid his face, and the bruises. He was dressed in too big Muggle attire, jeans and a dark sweatshirt. It probably would have been normal, except that day was unusually hot and everyone was sweating. Harry would never admit it. but he was hiding from his friends who were most likely waiting for him. He didn't want, no, <em>couldn't<em> let them see him like this. They would freak out. everything would be even worse. It always did. His aunt and uncle had been as nice to him as they usually were, minus the fact that they hated his guts.

He slipped onto the train like a shadow, wouldn't want his precautions to go to waste. As he got himself an empty compartment, waiting for the farewells of other people's relatives that actually loved them to fade away. Once the train pulled out of sight of Kings Cross Station, with all wizards and witches on board comfortable, Harry took at his wand and cast a charm. He felt a tingling sensation, followed by the now familiar drain on his energy, and left to find Ron and Hermione.

They talked about nonsense topics for what felt like forever until they finally arrived at Hogwarts. Honestly, the Harry felt rather relieved. No one was treating him the same, everyone just skirted around the topic of Sirius, acted like he was made of glass. It was rather irritating.

After the Sorting, the Welcoming Feast began. A new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was introduced, no surprise there. The glamours took a bit of getting used to, after a whole summer of not needing to use them and all. Harry was getting extremely tired, and only caught the name of his new Professor. Bridgewater, or something like that. Harry's eyelids were drooping faster by the second, and consequently missed the worried looks shot around him when he said he was off to bed, after eating only a couple bites of his dinner. No one objected, but Hermione was looking close. Which he also didn't notice.

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><p><strong>Good? Or nah?<strong>

**Please Review!**

**There will be more chapters, they'll be longer, I promise.**

**I've written out the next couple. Still working on them.**

**- The Epic Sparkles**


	2. Nightmares

**THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! **

**I'm so happy if you couldn't tell. 2 review, 3 followers, and 4 favorites. Wow... Here is the next chapter! It's longer, so have fun!**

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><p>Summary: After everyone is required to go home for the winter-holidays, Harry Potter comes back as an empty shell of what he was before. No real emotions, no spark, nothing. The only people that seem to be able to pick up all the broken pieces of The-Boy-Who-Lived are our favorite snarky Slytherins. What happens when they uncover secrets Harry has been successful in hiding for years? After Ootp, doesn't follow the last 2 books. Rated for abuse and language.<p>

_Previous: After the Sorting, the Welcoming Feast began. A new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was introduced, no surprise there. The glamours took a bit of getting used to, after a whole summer of not needing to use them and all. Harry was getting extremely tired, and only caught the name of his new Professor. Bridgewater, or something like that. Harry's eyelids were drooping faster by the second, and consequently missed the worried looks shot around him when he said he was off to bed, after eating only a couple bites of his dinner. No one objected, but Hermione was looking close. Which he also didn't notice._

**Chapter One: Nightmares**

Harry Potter was having a nightmare. Again.

"Worthless, ungrateful, stupid, FREAK!" Uncle Vernon raged, as he slid his belt out the loops, ready to bring it down in one horrible motion. Harry could hear his Aunt Petunia screeching the same, and worse, insults in the background.

"Please Uncle Vernon! It won't happen again! I'm really sorry! Please don't!" Harry begged, apologizing for some unknown offense. But his whale of an uncle was not moved, and whipped the leather belt down, buckle end first. All he felt was pain, and there seemed to be bright light that kept flashing across his closed eyelids. Except he didn't yell, couldn't actually. It would make it all so much worse.

His dream self was seeing stars, *this* close to the merciful blackness that came when one passed out. Just as the Gryffindor thought it was over, the scene changed.

He was back at the Department of Mysteries, near the veil that took his godfather's life. Except, Sirius was right in front of him.

"Sirius! You're alive! I thought you were gone forever!" When Harry was only inches away from hugging his godfather, until said godfather spoke.

"You did this to me Harry. You killed me!" His once handsome face contorted into a snarl.

"I didn't mean to! I swear! I'm sorry!" The Golden Boy was on the verge of painful tears. Then, Lily and James Potter appeared, only a mere few steps away.

"Mum? Dad? Is that you?"

His parents ignored the desperately asked question. Instead, they droned in unison with the deceased Sirius Black.

"You killed us. We're dead because of you, Harry. It's all your fault. You didn't even try to save us. You deserve everything that happens to you!" Cedric Diggory also came forward from the shadows, and completed the circle around the the trembling 16-year old. They started closing in on the Boy-Who-Lived, still repeating the words like a horrible mantra, that Harry had started believing were true a long time ago. The situation at hand, was steadily getting worse, even if it was only a dream. He felt like he could no longer breathe, and with logic arguing otherwise, he started to scream.

Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Neville were all having a peaceful nights sleep on their first day back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. No one noticed when their other dorm mate started muttering in his sleep, each word more harsh sounding than the last.

"Please… didn't mean.. I'm sorry…" If any of the other boys woke up, they would've seen silent tears running down Harry's face. But none of them did, after all, they were all fast asleep dreaming about Chocolate Frogs and what-have-you. What did wake them up though, was the ear-splitting screams at 3 in the morning.

Ron was instantly alert, already speeding towards Harry's bed when everyone else was still rubbing the sleep from their eyes, trying to figure out what happened. The redhead tried, to no avail, to wake his best friend.

"Harry! Mate, wake up! It's only a dream. Wake up!" He shook the other boy, only to have him subconsciously flinch and thrash even more.

"Wake up, Harry! You're going to choke yourself like that!" It was true, Harry had some how managed to get his blankets wrapped around his throat, and it was rapidly cutting off the air trying to get to his lungs. All of his jerking movements only managed to constrict the covers even tighter around his windpipe.

Ron turned around to his other dorm-mates, who were just standing uselessly by. "Someone go get McGonagall! And hurry!" Neville hastened to get to his feet and ran out the portrait hole in search of their Head of House.

As the crisis raged on in the boy's dorms, Severus Snape was patrolling the corridors, fuming. He was having an awful day. Not only because all the idiot dunderheads had come back for the school year, but it did not escape his notice that Potter seemed more pampered than ever. The-Boy-Who-Won't-Just-Bloody-Die-Already thought he was too good for the delicious food at the Welcoming Feast lovingly prepared by house elves. He had taken two bites of his food before he looked like he was going to be puke. What kind of delicacies did those blasted Muggles feed him? To make him sick on the amazing meal in front of him? There was no doubt about it in his mind, Harry Potter was a spoiled prince, with people waiting on his hand and foot. Just like his father. To make matters worse, it was his turn to make sure the brats didn't break the rules about going out at night. As he was nearing the entrance of the Gryffindor common room, the portrait hole burst open. He sighed and shook his head. Not even an attempt at quietness. Whoever was sneaking out was going to get a nasty surprise.

"What exactly are you doing out after curfew… Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville let out a startled squeak before answering. "I need to speak with Professor McGonagall, sir."

Snape let a sneer be shown clearly on his face. "At 3 in the morning? Couldn't it wait until later? Unless you felt it was absolutely necessary to wander around trying to get a detention? I would have thought you would want to avoid those, considering how many you received last year."

The flustered student's face became a shade of bright red. "It's about Harry, sir."

The Potions Master made a disgusted sound from the back of his throat, and had to take a moment to calm down. Of course the 'Golden Boy' sent someone else to do his dirty work.

"Then why couldn't Mr. Potter go find your Head of House himself them?"

The student in front of him fidgeted.

"Well get on with it!" Severus Snape was not exactly at the most patient person, especially in the wee hours of the morning..

"He's not actually awake. He's having a…" Neville hesitated the plowed on before he could lose his nerve, "Nightmare, Professor. None of us could wake him up. He's very close to choking himself, sir."

Severus sighed. The idiot. At this rate, the Dark Lord wasn't going to have to kill the boy. He was about to do it himself!

"McGonagall won't appreciate you waking her up. I shall have to waste my precious time for your Mr. Potter."

Neville bit his lip, then nodded his head in reluctant consent. He turned around and led the the 'bat of the dungeons' to the 6th year boy's dorm.

As this conversation went on, the other three actually conscious Gryffindors were frantically trying to get the green eyes of their dorm mate to open. Unknown to them, the rest of the lion's den was slowly waking up, trying to figure what the hell was going on. Was someone dying? No one knew, though Hermione, and possibly Ginny, seemed to have a better idea than everyone else.

Dean and Seamus were struggling valiantly to get the blankets wrapped around Harry's throat to loosen. They were slowly, but surely, getting the covers off; they didn't want to think of what would happen if they weren't fast enough. Ron was doing everything he could to wake his best friend up. Long story short, nothing was working. Not even the reviving spells, which should've confused him to no end, except he was close to panicking. Harry's screams did not help at all.

When Neville came back with Snape, the two were greeted by Harry, but he was no longer screaming. He had curled up on himself into a fetal position, spent after screaming and thrashing about. He was crying again, sobbing quietly, as if the movement were practiced. Like he had done the same thing over and over again. Everyone else was also exhausted, battling sheets was surprisingly difficult. But the thing that caught the dour Potions Master's attention was the words he could make out in between tears.

"Please... I didn't mean… I'm sorry!"

"Neville! Thank Merlin! He won't wake up! We tried everything! Where's McGonagall?" Ron looked a mix between worry and concern.

"Professor McGonagall would not take kindly to be woken at this hour, and Mr. Longbottom here decided that being as loud as a stampede of hippogriffs was a good idea." Severus sneered.

"I'm sure you've tried the reviving charm? Unless you forgot." Snape could not help the sarcasm that seemed to be oozing from him. Just imagine what Potter would think when his most hated professor saw him at his most vulnerable state! The mere thought made him almost smile. In answer to his question, three heads nodded back at him. He sighed. Now what? He walked up towards the four-poster bed, firmly, but gently grabbed one of Harry's shoulders and said firmly.

"Potter. Wake up." What no one expected, was for it to work. Then again, neither had Severus.

Harry was still in his dream state, his parents, Sirius, and Cedric staring at him. Where their eyes should have been, were deep, black, emotionless voids. They were no longer accusing him, just looking at him solemnly, which honestly, freaked him out even more. When his dad opened his mouth again, Harry was not expecting him to speak like Severus Snape, telling him sternly to wake up. Or for his breath to smell like different spices. Cedric, who was behind him, began to shake his shoulders, not hard, but just enough to get his eyes to fly open and shoot straight up. When he collected his bearings, he saw the worried faces of his dorm mates, and the sneer of the Potions Master.

"What happened? Why is everyone awake? What is Snape doing here?"

"That's Professor Snape to you, Potter. You apparently were having such a disturbing nightmare that you dorm mates felt it was crucial to wake you up by calling your Head of House. The sheets-" he pointed to the large pile on the floor, "were almost successful in what the Dark Lord failed to do several years ago."

Harry felt blood rush to his cheeks, no doubt making them a rosy red. "Sorry for waking you up guys."

"If that's all the disturbance you're going to make tonight, Potter," the drawling voice that every Slytherin seemed to posses made him look up, "I will be leaving now. Do you require a Dreamless Sleep potion so I do not have to waste more of my precious time to untangle you again?" Even with the venom behind the words, it did not stop Harry's eyes from becoming as big a dinner plates.

"Don't look so surprised. McGonagall would have my head if I did not at least offer some sort of help. Now go back to sleep, all of you!" The four other boys scrambled to their beds, lest anger the 'Dungeon Bat'. While all of his dorm mates soon fell back into whatever sweet dreams they had before. Harry stayed wide awake, going back to sleep for more nightmares was not an option.

That's all I really am to people. A burden . Snape only offered the potion so he didn't have to come wake me up again. And that McGonagall would've gotten really mad.

"Why would McGonagall get mad if no one cares?" a little voice in the back of his head offered.

Maybe he just used her as an excuse? It's Snape after all. Was Sirius right? I killed him? Plus there's Mom, Dad, and Cedric! They said I could've tried harder! What if they're right? Would they still be alive right now?

"That's not true," the little voice argued. However it's semi-encouraging words seemed to get softer, coming from farther away.

After the very intense mental argument with his own brain, Harry tried to sit up, and immediately regretted it. The pain from bruises and welts on his back flared, making him wince. Why did this world have to be so unfair? Not only was there an evil murderous Dark wizard trying to kill him, but Uncle Vernon decided this was the summer he was going to try even harder to get the magic out of Harry, one way or another. As if what he was already doing wasn't enough. Now knowing that the threat of his 'dangerous' godfather was gone for real, he could practically get away with anything he did to his nephew. Harry pushed all his doubts to the back of his mind and fixed his attention on the ceiling above his head, waiting for morning to come. It wasn't like he could fall asleep anyway.

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><p><strong>BWHAHAHA! I'm evil aren't I... <strong>

**I have a couple questions for all you reader peoples**

**Can you see the story picture? I uploaded one, but I can't see it. So...**

**How often do you think I should update? I don't want to have an army of fandoms against me for not adding new chapters**

**Also! For you Percy Jackson fans, I've started writing a story called _Cursed With A Blessing__  
><em>**

**Read that one?**

**Review please! My self-esteem is currently pretty low *grins* **

**-The Epic Sparkles**


	3. Detention in the Dungeons

**I'd like to thank all the people who followed and reviewed! You have no idea how hard it is to try to be calm... **

**I'm a very excitable person. **

**I tend to repeat things in the Author's notes, just a head's up.**

**BUT THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!**

**Another thing, thank goodness you guys can see the picture. Otherwise that'd be awkward.**

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><p><em>Summary: After everyone is required to go home for the holidays, Harry Potter comes back as an empty shell of what he was before. No real emotions, no spark, nothing. The only people that seem to be able to pick up all the broken pieces are our favorite snarky Slytherins. What happens when they uncover secrets Harry has been hiding for years? After Ootp, doesn't follow last 2 books.<em>

_Previous: After the very intense mental argument with his own brain, Harry tried to sit up, and immediately regretted it. The pain from bruises and welts on his back flared, making him wince. Why did this world have to be so unfair? Not only was there an evil murderous Dark wizard trying to kill him, but Uncle Vernon decided this was the summer he was going to try even harder to get the magic out of Harry, one way or another. As if what he was already doing wasn't enough. Now knowing that the threat of his 'dangerous' godfather was gone for real, he could practically get away with anything he did to his nephew. Harry pushed all his doubts to the back of his mind and fixed his attention on the ceiling above his head, waiting for morning to come. It wasn't like he could fall asleep anyway._

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Detention in the Dungeons<strong>

The Golden Trio was on their way to the Great Hall for breakfast when Hermione pounced.

"What was last night about, Harry? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, 'Mione. It was just a dream." Harry replied, trying not to sound too annoyed. Not sleeping was really taking a toll on his attitude.

Hermione muttered under her breath, "Some dream. Woke up the whole tower." Ron just looked solemn as he walked along, not entirely paying attention to the conversation around him. Her green-eyed friend blushed a bright, embarrassed red, kind of like a tomato. With hair. And eyes

_Note to self: Never forget to put up the silencing charm around the bed, or suffer the consequences. Also known as Hermione. _

As they sat down at the Gryffindor table, and everyone, mainly Ron, dug in, Harry felt nauseous just at the sight of food. He honestly didn't know why. After being subjected to the Dursley's rather harsh form of discipline, he should have wanted to stuff his face until he was going to explode, not puke it all back up.

Unknown to him, Snape eyes were wandering the Hall, until they settled on him. The black orbs seemed to be trying to bore themselves into the back of Harry's head. He looked sick again. _What is wrong with that blasted boy?_

McGonagall who was seated next to him, snorted into her tea. "Stop staring at the poor boy, Severus. I honestly don't know why you hate him so much. And you need eye contact if you wanted to hex him."

The Potions Master glared at her.

She snorted again. And nearly succeeded in getting tea up her nose.

"Ugh! Potions is the last class of the day. Just imagine! Snape right before dinner!" Ron complained.

"Oh shush it, Ron! All you think about is food. And Potions isn't that bad!" Hermione scolded.

"Says who? Snape equals torture." The red-head shot back, with a 'well duh' face.

"Says me, you idiot!"

The three Gryffindors made their way to their first lesson of the day, Ron and Hermione still arguing like their lives depended on it. Harry sighed and shook his head teasingly.

"It just never gets old does it?" The two pairs of eyes that were intent on making the other back down turned toward him, all ferocity still present. He just laughed, and last night's fiasco was temporarily forgotten.

Sometime after lunch, it was the most boring class the world has ever seen, also known as History of Magic. Mainly because the teacher was a ghost who most likely didn't even know who he was dead. Harry just couldn't keep his eyes open. They seemed to have weights tied to them, the way they were determined to stay down. Thank goodness it wasn't actual weights, that would've hurt. He was also pretty sure dark circles were prominent under his eyes. Malfoy continued to smirk every time they passed, but it was subdued, no taunts or hateful comments, which was weird. Honestly though, Harry was a bit preoccupied pinching himself every 30 seconds.

_Last class of the day. Hold it together, Harry. Stay awake._

He repeated it to himself over and over again, but of course it didn't work. In the last 15 minutes of Potions, his head hit the desk with a thud.

"Potter! Detention tonight at 5 for feeling the need to fall asleep in class." Professor Snape glowered, followed by the sniggers from the Slytherin side of the room accompanied by the sympathetic glances from Ron and Hermione. Harry just sighed and stared at the front of the room to figure out what he missed. Which was… absolutely nothing. Cue the groan. The rest of the class passed in a blur of boredom, and Harry was tempted to try to take fall asleep again.

"Harry mate, are you sure you're ok?" Ron and Hermione shadowed him closely as they made their way to the common room after the bell rang.

"I'm sure! Honestly! I'm alright. I swear." His friends still looked doubtful. "I'm just tired. I think I need to go take a nap before my detention." He gave a large yawn that wasn't entirely fake.

Hermione nodded, almost convinced. "You probably should, Harry. But you'll let us know if there's something really wrong, right?"

"Yeah, of course."

He made his way wearily up to the dorms, and flopped down on his bed. The second his head hit the pillow, darkness claimed him.

The next thing that he was aware of was Ron shaking his shoulder and telling him to get up.

"Hey, Harry. There are 20 minutes until your detention. 'Mione says you should have enough time to get ready, and do whatever stuff she thinks is going to take up all time." The redhead rolled his eyes at the apparent weirdness. Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"Thanks, Ron. I better clean up or something." Harry started to attempt to tame his hair a bit, before just giving up entirely. He straightened his clothes, trying to make them look less rumpled, which didn't work either. He still had about 10 minutes to waste. Now what? Harry laid back onto his four-poster, staring at the draperies. Time ticked by agonizingly slowly, until it was finally time to go. Harry grabbed his bag and ran into the corridors, dreading his first detention of the year.

He made was outside the Potions Master's office about to knock with one minute to spare. Snape didn't appreciate people who were late, wouldn't want to make him even more cranky than normal. Why couldn't he have stayed awake? There were only 15 more minutes! He mentally smacked himself. He then raised a hand, and rapped sharply on the wood in front of him, and was met with a harsh 'come in'. He hesitantly opened the door, scooting inside the second there was enough room for him to fit. His professor was sitting behind his desk doing paperwork, lesson plans probably. Harry didn't like the feeling of being in here, alone, with an adult, especially if the said adult was Snape. Being with an older person, talking one-on-one had always made him jittery, fidgety, whatever you want to call it. It had started probably back before Hogwarts, he could just _never _relax. Dursley memories would appear unbidden, and the worst ones got him *this* close to a damn panic attack.

Snape looked up from his writing. "Mr. Potter, at least you have the decency to be on time for once. You will be writing lines, as I obviously do not have any cauldrons to clean. Unless you weren't paying attention, which you weren't, seeing that you felt it was convenient to fall asleep in my class. Harry was to tired to even manage a glare, and just took out his quill and some parchment.

The former Death Eater tapped the blackboard with his wand and spidery writing appeared.

"Please copy this sentence 300 times, Potter." It read '_I must not sleep in class.' _The words seemed so familiar to Umbridge's '_I must not tell lies' _that Harry shuddered as he absentmindedly rubbed the white scars on the back of his hand.

Severus watched the student in front of him intently, as the said student wrote on obliviously. No matter how he tried, he couldn't figure the boy out. Thinking about it, he had been behaving even stranger than normal since the beginning of the Triwizard Tournament. The problem was that he seemed to be the only one who noticed the change in Potter's behavior, so he shook it off. He wouldn't want people to think he was capable of having real feelings, he had a reputation to maintain after all. He still tried to sort out all the twists and turns of the situation, but all he got was his mind in knots. On a totally unrelated note…

"Something I can read, Potter!"

Then surprisingly, the devil spawn of James Potter flinched, pretty badly too in Severus' opinion. It was partially concealed, but he wasn't a spy on the Dark Lord for nothing. All these years and now he was frightened? That could not be right. What happened? Then he shook the pesky thoughts off. He did not care about the annoying Gryffindor. Not a single bit. Possibly a little. It was only because he was Lily's son. He was not concerned about Harry _Potter _for Merlin's sake. Severus was taken out of his inner turmoil a couple minutes later by the boy himself. There was a dull thud, not unlike the one that happened earlier, and the clatter of his quill hitting the desk. _There's got to be something to keep him awake. Why is he falling asleep in the first place?_

Harry was writing the sentence over and over again, with a horrible sense of déjà-vu. When Snape snapped at him, he was so preoccupied that he had let his guard down, something he swore would not happen again. He had flinched, as it was a reflex by now. The only thought that was racing through his brain was '_Shit, crap, crap, crap, crap, please say he didn't see that!' _ The lack of sleep and the extreme anxiety made him exhausted faster than he even thought possible. It was as if he hadn't slept well in a week, oh wait, he didn't. As he was on his 270th line, Harry felt his eyelids got heavier. On his 274th line, he felt his head gravitating towards the desk. The 276th line was where disaster struck. His mind shut down, and he was having a nap time to-go.

Snape knew he should wake the insolent brat up, he just needed to think a bit. There was nothing to suggest that something happened to him over the summer. It was just because of the idiotic Sirius Black. Though he hated to admit that the Dursleys' made him just want to vomit at their repulsiveness. The flinch happened only because Potter was startled. Nothing more. The logical side of his brain started to protest, but he shut it out. The Potter brat looked so peaceful with his head on the desk, eyes closed, and an innocent expression on his face. He wouldn't want his hated Potions Professor see him at his weakest, twice for that matter. The thought of it filled Severus with a sick sort of glee, and he almost smiled, almost. Before he got the chance to traumatize the said student, Potter woke up, returning into a sitting position. The-Boy-Who-Lived eye's were wide open and wild, he was acting like a caged animal pushed too far into a corner. The green orbs were filled with what the former spy could only identify as… fear?

"I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't mean to fall asleep again! I'm almost done with my lines." Potter, apologizing, to _him _no less, the world should be ending any minute now.

He didn't let his surprise and confusion show on his face, and his words. All Slytherins knew how to mask their true feelings, they were renowned for it. It wasn't his fault that the idiotic Gryffindors decided to wore their hearts on their sleeves.

"Our dear Golden Boy needs his beauty sleep," he sneered, "Finish your lines and come back tomorrow at the same time until you can learn how to stay awake, Mr. Potter." Severus turned around to back towards the pile of student's summer homework on his desk. He picked up his quill and started viciously grading a 3rd year Hufflepuff's essay.

While his professor went back to his desk, Harry inwardly smacked himself. Again. Why did he have to fall asleep? AGAIN! In Snape's class too! Everything was shaping up just great. Two detentions because he couldn't keep himself awake. Then there was the whole 'I-fucking-let-down-my-guard-and-let-Snape-of-all-people-see-me-flinch-because-he-yelled-at-me'. The room now seemed much more cramped, as if the stone walls of the dungeons were closing in. He just had to get out. Harry rushed the last couple repetitions of 'I must not fall asleep in class', making his handwriting even worse, and raced out the door as soon he could. When he made it to the portrait of the Fat Lady, he realized the hustle and bustle of the common room was not what he needed right now. Harry turned around and veered the other way.

By the time he made it into an abandoned classroom, he was out of breath. Harry didn't know what floor he was on, or on what side of the school. He collapsed onto one of the remaining desks and rested his head on his arms. He really was in no condition to sprint, he could feel his partially healed ribs protesting with fiery flashes of pain. The air seemed to pulse at the same pace as the crazy pounding of his heart. Just because life was a bitch and the world decided that his wasn't messed up enough, the dust in a corner shifted, revealing a remarkably tall figure who opened their mouth to speak in a girl's voice.

"Hello."

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><p><strong>Oh snap it's a cliffy<strong>

**So?**

**What ya think?**

**The mystery person is a character of my own creation. You won't know her!**

**I might not be able to update so often, my time management skills suck**

**-The Epic Sparkles**


	4. Violet Grace Hoffman

**Thanks to everyone who review/read/followed/favorited! Is that a word?**

**Anyways... This is the unveiling of out mystery girl!**

**Read on! Not like I could stop you guys. I know you wanna!**

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><p><strong>Summary: After everyone is required to go home for the winter-holidays, Harry Potter comes back as an empty shell of what he was before. No real emotions, no spark, nothing. The only people that seem to be able to pick up all the broken pieces of The-Boy-Who-Lived are our favorite snarky Slytherins. What happens when they uncover secrets Harry has been successful in hiding for years? After Ootp, doesn't follow the last 2 books. Rated for abuse and language.<strong>

**Previous: **

**By the time he made it into an abandoned classroom, he was out of breath. Harry didn't know what floor he was on, or on what side of the school. He collapsed onto one of the remaining desks and rested his head on his arms. He really was in no condition to sprint, he could feel his partially healed ribs protesting with fiery flashes of pain. The air seemed to pulse at the same pace as the crazy pounding of his heart. Just because life was a bitch and the world decided that his wasn't messed up enough, the dust in a corner shifted, revealing a remarkably tall figure who opened their mouth to speak in a girl's voice.**

**"Hello."**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Violet Grace Hoffman<strong>

Harry resisted the urge to groan. Just when he wanted to be left alone for _ten freaking minutes _it was interrupted. At least it wasn't a Gryffindor, they were much louder. So that just left one question, who was she? He got his answer when the girl stepped out of the shadows.

"Violet Hoffman. It's nice to finally to be able to talk to the Golden Boy." There was the slightest hint of sarcasm around her friendly tone, something Harry almost felt grateful for. No matter what Snape thought, he absolutely hated the celebrity treatment, it was annoying. Violet was very tall, almost as tall as Ron, and that was saying something. Her reddish-brown hair was in braid down her back that stopped just above her waist. Her grey-blue eyes were accented by her pale skin. He could see the slight glinting of a sloppily placed Head Girl badge glinting on her robes.

Harry didn't know what to say. How do you make small talk with a stranger? Head Girl for that fact. He went with the question that was niggling at his mind. "Um... what house are you in?"

Her response was unexpected. "The great, but devious, house of Salazar" Her lips quirked upwards. "Weren't expecting that were you?"

"How did you know?"

"Unlike certain Gryffindors, we actually don't wear out hearts on our sleeves. You absolutely stink at trying to be subtle."

"Do not!" The friendly banter, even though they only knew each other since about 30 seconds ago, was refreshing. Was this how Ron and Hermione felt? He was probably losing it, a civil conversation with a Slytherin. It was a wonder how they hadn't started hexing each other yet.

Violet raised an eyebrow, and Harry knew he had just lost.

"What year are you in?"

"Seventh. My turn for a question. Why aren't you with Granger and Weasley? You guys are practically inseparable. "

"I had detention."

"And why aren't you back in the common room?" That girl really didn't slip up did she?

"Um... I, I don't really know."

She snorted. "Let me take a guess. Peace and quiet? Those redheads only do obnoxious noise levels." Strangely, there was no venom behind the words.

Harry looked mock offended. "I take that very personally."

There was a pause, and Violet plopped herself at a desk unceremoniously. She looked as if the silence was perfectly comfortable, but the younger boy was feeling awkward.

"Are you worried about your NEWTS?" He asked weakly.

"God Potter, you're just as eloquent as they said. You really don't do conversations do you?"

Harry could only stutter and then stopped looking embarrassed.

"Exactly my point." She looked like she was going to continue, but then another girl's voice yelling in the corridor's interrupted her. "That's my cue. See you around Potter."

"Bye. Wait, Hoffman!"

Violet stuck her head back in the classroom, the rest of her already a step out. "Yes Potter?"

"Why didn't you jinx me to little pieces? After all, most of your house would have jumped at the chance."

Her only answer didn't give him the information he wanted. She gave him a half smile, saying "Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?"

And then she was gone.

Harry was left staring at the door.

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><p>Violet walked out of the classroom, dusted herself off, and made it look totally normal that she had disappeared for over an hour. She did <em>not <em>feel like being with all her make-up obsessed friends trying to give her a new look. There wasn't anything wrong with the way she was now! Her friends could be so weird. Speaking of which...

"Violet Grace Hoffman! What do you think you're doing avoiding your friends?"

She just grinned at her _colorful _friend Jasmine Ruther. She was petite, at least by Violet's standards. In reality, she was probably jut a little shorter than average. Her blonde locks had rainbow highlights and she always insisted on wearing at least one piece of clothing in bright hues. Today it was an electric blue bow holding all her hair together. Her hazel eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"Well?"

She dragged out her response. "Nothing..."

The shorter Slytherin placed her hands on her hips and faced her friend. "Violet! Tell me. Now."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "I was _trying _to get out of another 'Vi, you just have to try this on' session."

"We do _not _sound like that!"

Grey-blue eyes sparkled in amusement. "Sure you don't."

She only heard a huff come from the girl next to her. She had won again! Then she heard another girl behind them saying, "You found her!"

"What am I now? A lost puppy dog?"

She could just see her auburn-haired friend roll her navy blue eyes. Violet was really good at pissing off her friends.

"Yes Vi, you are a giant puppy dog that keeps going missing. That's exactly it."

"Annabelle Pakston, what have I told you about not telling lies? I just hide from you guys."

"That's not much better!" Was the indignant reply.

"True. Come on guys, let's go. We're gonna get in trouble."

"No we're not! We're 7th years, one thing, and we're with the Head Girl. Nothing could go wrong." came from Annabelle, with a smile covering half of her face.

Violet rolled her eyes. Trust these two to say that. "Well I'm going to lose this badge if you guys don't move your butts!"

It was Jasmine who grinned, then said, "You are not, our dear head of house is your dad."

A 'you're all impossible' was muttered as the trio of girls made their way towards the dungeons and the Slytherin common room. It was true, the one Severus Snape was her father, but adopted. Her parentage was not a well known fact, and she planned to keep it that way. She was some far removed niece of his, when her parents had consequently died and left him as the only relative. She had been five at the time, and originally resented the man, but now he was like her real father, the one that she didn't have too many memories of. Under the snarky exterior was a man who truly cared about her well-being, Violet wouldn't have wanted anything else. He almost ripped apart a Gryffindor who had the nerve to tease her. It was rather hilarious, watching the prat of a boy cowering in fear.

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><p>After an hour of unwinding in the Slytherin common room, where the sarcastic snakes got a chance to really be themselves (Draco Malfoy, her god-brother <strong>[<strong>**Is that a thing?] **was laying on his back in front of the fire, completely undignified), the snake pit eventually started thinning out as students started going to bed. Violet said good-bye to Annabelle and Jasmine as she slowly walked out and into her own quarters separated by only a door to Severus' quarters. She opened the oak door and stepped into her dad's kitchen.

"Dad! Where are you?" She yelled.

A disgruntled Potion's master popped his head out of his office, also linked to his personal quarters. "Violet, don't kill my eardrums will you?" But she could see the slight amused twinkle in his normally sullen onyx eyes.

"Not a chance!"

Severus rolled his eyes. He couldn't believe he actually enjoyed his daughter's company. That girl was completely insane when she wasn't in public.

"I'm grading papers, go to bed or something. What do teenagers do these days?"

"It's ten o'clock. We party all night long!"

"You do not. Go to sleep young lady."

"Sure dad. Whatever you say." She skipped off back towards her room to get ready for lights out, looking so much like a Hufflepuff at Hogsmeade for the first time.

The dour man snorted and sat back down at his desk, picked up his quill, and sighed at the denseness of Gryffindor second years.

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><p>Violet changed into her pajamas, brushed her teeth, and carried out other night time routines. When she was finished, she plopped down on her four-poster bed and stared unseeingly into the darkness of the ceiling. She recalled her short conversation with the one and only Harry Potter. She had, what you could say, an unusual gift. She could see through glamours and other kinds of magical concealment, including invisibility cloaks.<p>

_She had been six years old. She was in Severus' classroom, just as always because he couldn't leave her alone in his quarters. The last time that happened she had broken pretty much everything that couldn't have been broken. On accident of course, but she still had been banned from dessert for a month. She played on obliviously as fourth year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws smiled at her adorableness. She had been rather cute. But as she kept pretending that Princess Buttercup was being kidnapped by the dragon Peter Poof, she missed the tell-tale hissing that a cauldron was about to explode its contents all over the classroom. But she did notice when she was covered head to toe in some kind of freezing cold goop. At first, she felt nothing peculiar and thought she was fine, but the there came a horrible painful itching from her eyes. All the students close by attempted to scrape off the potion, forgetting completely about their wands. Violet had been surrounded by the darkness, completely freaking out. But suddenly, all the scary shadows went away and she was picked up in her dad's arms. He rushed her to the hospital wing as he dismissed class. The student who had caused the accident was lucky Snape forgot to assign detention, or worse. She couldn't tell if she was crying or not, but by the way she felt comforting circles on her back, she probably was. She was aware of the Potion's Master calling for Madam Pomfrey, then she fell into unconsciousness._

_When she woke up, she first saw her dad completely undignified and sleeping in a chair near her bed. Then she saw Dumbledore in a corner with his blue eyes twinkling, but encompassed by a shimmering glow. Was their something wrong with her eyes? She scrubbed them with tiny hands, but the shining was still there. The Headmaster made no acknowledgement of her state of awareness, but continued just to watch. When she stared straight at him the twinkle faltered for a second. He frowned, waved his wand, and then all the shimmering disappeared. He shook Severus lightly on the shoulder and motioned for him to follow. After they came back, her adopted father had to explain to her that she apparently could see through most, if not all, concealment charms. It was weird..._

The gift had proved helpful, if not a little too revealing. Several couples snogging in the hallway was enough to want to make her puke. But back to Harry Potter. He had glamours all over his body, concealing something. His face had been too thin, and Violet would bet a thousand Galleons the rest of his body was the same way. The most disturbing thing however, was not his emaciation. It was the black eye and line of bruises stretching from his right ear to his jaw in the shape of a hand print. It wasn't hard to see that he had been abused, but by who? She just had to prove it to someone, then an adult with more experience could take over. She just had to figure it out. Maybe they could even become friends. She was going mental. And all the insanity was revolving around the one Harry Potter.

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><p><strong>Done! Do you life my dear Violet Grace Hoffman?<strong>

**Thank you for the great reviews! Do you want me to reply to them? You guys are awesome.**

**Also, I have a question for you all. I don't know if I want a good Ron or a bad Ron. Same with Dumbledore. Thoughts?**

**I have nothing to do with my time, do you want me to read your stories? Just recommend. **

**It's my birthday soon... Review as a present? Pretty please with a cherry on top?**

**-The Epic Sparkles**


	5. Let's Get Started, Shall We?

**I AM SO SORRY THAT I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN FOREVER AND I KNOW THAT I AM A HORRIBLE PERSON PLEASE FORGIVE ME.**

**To answer a common question, yes Violet will play a very big part in this story.**

**I have decided to go with a good Ron and Dumbledore, cause I want to.**

**I love you guys!**

**Read ahead!**

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><p><strong>Summary:<strong>

****After everyone is required to go home for the winter-holidays, Harry Potter comes back as an empty shell of what he was before. No real emotions, no spark, nothing. The only people that seem to be able to pick up all the broken pieces of The-Boy-Who-Lived are our favorite snarky Slytherins. What happens when they uncover secrets Harry has been successful in hiding for years? After Ootp, doesn't follow the last 2 books. Rated for abuse and language.** **

****Previous:****

****The gift had proved helpful, if not a little too revealing. Several couples snogging in the hallway was enough to want to make her puke. But back to Harry Potter. He had glamours all over his body, concealing something. His face had been too thin, and Violet would bet a thousand Galleons the rest of his body was the same way. The most disturbing thing however, was not his emaciation. It was the black eye and line of bruises stretching from his right ear to his jaw in the shape of a hand print. It wasn't hard to see that he had been abused, but by who? She just had to prove it to someone, then an adult with more experience could take over. She just had to figure it out. Maybe they could even become friends. She was going mental. And all the insanity was revolving around the one Harry Potter.****

****From Chapter 3:****

**"Are you worried about your NEWTS?" He asked weakly.**

**"God Potter, you're just as eloquent as they said. You really don't do conversations do you?"**

**Harry could only stutter and then stopped looking embarrassed.**

**"Exactly my point." She looked like she was going to continue, but then another girl's voice yelling in the corridor's interrupted her. "That's my cue. See you around Potter."**

**"Bye. Wait, Hoffman!"**

**Violet stuck her head back in the classroom, the rest of her already a step out. "Yes Potter?"**

**"Why didn't you jinx me to little pieces? After all, most of your house would have jumped at the chance."**

**Her only answer didn't give him the information he wanted. She gave him a half smile, saying "Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?"**

**And then she was gone.**

**Harry was left staring at the door.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Four: Let's Get Started, Shall We?<strong>

Harry was also walking away from their conversation, thoughts swirling. What did she mean? The glamours were still up, he knew that for a fact. Otherwise he wouldn't be so fucking tired. She couldn't see through them right? No, that was impossible. Stupid Slytherins and their bloody riddles! His mind worked overtime all the way to the Gryffindor tower until when he made it to the portrait hole it finally short circuited. Now he had a headache. Oh how great it would be just to lay down and go to sleep. Well if he made up a believable excuse for Ron and Hermione he could go to bed early, then he could just keep up the glamour on his face and voila! Sleep! But as it turned out, he actually didn't have to. As soon as he walked in through the portrait his best friends looked at him critically till Ron broke the ice bluntly.

"You look like shit, mate."

"Ron! Language!" Hermione whacked him on the shoulder.

The only response the bookworm got was a roll of blue eyes.

Harry laughed, "Gee thanks Ron."

"What did the greasy git make you do that made you look this bad?"

"Ron!"

"Oh stuff it 'Mione."

"RONALD WEASLEY!"

Ron gave Harry the 'can you believe her?' look.

The raven haired boy grinned. Their bickering was now endearing. "Just lines."

Hermione huffed, obviously miffed. "Well I think-"

"That Harry looks past death." Ron interrupted.

"That's not what I was going to say!"

"Sure." The red head raised an eyebrow at the third member of the trio. "You should probably go to bed Harry. Sweet dreams."

Said boy was watching amused, and touched at his friend's obvious effort to cheer him up. And that they were no longer walking on eggshells around him. "G'night."

He trudged up to the dormitories and into the bathroom. He magically locked the door to make sure no one could come in. As he looked in the mirror, he admitted silently to himself that he looked absolutely horrible. Even with the glamour charm he had dark circles and haunted eyes, like a person just out of Azkaban. It was just how Sirius looked when they first met... Harry felt an overwhelming wave of despair, grief, and all things in between. It was all his fault... Just like Uncle Vernon said. He was a freak, couldn't do anything right. The Gryffindor waved his wand to make the enchantments around his body fall to check on his injuries. His eye still looked horrible, but the right side of his face, where Uncle Vernon's beefy hand had slapped him, seemed much better. The once black and blue bruises were not a yellowish color, and indication that he was healing. He poked at his rib-cage, feeling to see how much of the bone had grown back. Which was added a whole other awful feeling to his already crappy day. Not only could he feel every single rib on his body, they hurt like_hell._ He replaced the glamours and raced out of the bathroom, depressed. If he only had mastered Occlumency, none of this shit would have happened. He didn't bother to change into his pajamas as he fell into a restless sleep surrounded by the curtains of his four-poster. He had forgotten to mention to his best friends about his detention the next day.

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><p>When Harry woke up the next day, he was still miserable. He got ready like a robot, mechanically and without emotion. He had Defense Against the Dark Arts today, and he knew that all the students were doing a critical first-impression of Professor Bridgewood. He almost felt sorry for him, but couldn't stay like that for long. Feeling pity for someone who was a total stranger was just too much for him right then. He went down to breakfast with Ron and Hermione, and they were in the middle of another row that had occurred sometime after he went to sleep, and no one was talking to each other. That was fine with him. They walked in silence to the DADA classroom, and took up the customary seats in the back, and waited for class to begin.<p>

On closer inspection, the Professor was a tall man, very broad, large, whatever you want to call it. Thank goodness he wasn't overweight, otherwise he'd look so much like Uncle Vernon and Harry would not be able to get through this class. Fighting Voldemort on a yearly basis should get him able to pass, right? He had dark brown hair and eyes, neatly trimmed beard and mustache completed his angular face.

"Well class welcome to this year's class of Defense Against the Dark Arts. I will take roll and then we will start today's lesson. Lavender Brown? ..."

He was a halfway decent teacher, and the class on good dueling technique was actually interesting. Hermione was scribbling notes like crazy. The only thing weird was sometimes he would get a half-maniac gleam in his eyes that creeped Harry out.

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><p>After he was done teaching for the day, Severus Snape was fuming. Again. He had just been reminded after his seventh year class by Violet that he had to run the detention. How in the name of Merlin did he manage to earn two detentions in the first two days of the year? God damn the Potter brat, he had the audacity to fall asleep in his classroom twice! He was going to need a nice strong drink. But what to choose? He boasted an especially well-stocked liquor cabinet especially for hardheaded students. He had unlocked it so many times because of a certain blasted Gryffindor. Yet all his other colleagues were practically tripping over their own feet to please the green-eyed boy. He muttered to himself, grumbling about how stupid this whole situation was, when he realized he had entrusted his key to Violet, in hope to quell his need for a drink every time a child had frustrated him more than normal, past his comfort zone. And that he could only open his hoard with that key. Now he had to go find a stubborn daughter who was going to make him talk it out first, yippee. He never got the chance to find her though, let's just say other things got in the way.<p>

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><p>Violet did have the key. It was a small and silver key, with a snake coiling itself intricately around the whole thing, minus the part where you would insert it into the lock. The eyes of the snake were tiny emeralds, each about the size of the head of a pin. It hung from a gold chain on her neck, carefully tucked underneath her shirt so no one would be able to take it, including her father. She was currently in the common room with Jasmine and Annabelle, all three girls trying to complete an Arithmacy assignment without much luck. Annabelle groaned in frustration as her forehead hit the table with a resounding thunk.<p>

Violet raised a dark eyebrow at the auburn hair, the only currently visible part of her friend. "Well isn't someone happy today."

The reply was muffled, but clear enough. "This is too hard. You guys do it and give me all the answers."

Jasmine scoffed. "No way, Vi can do it. Won't you?"

"Um... how about no. I have to go help Dad (that word was whispered) with stuff right now. I'm just going to go to bed and ask the professor tomorrow."

"This is why you're the smart one."

She rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh. See you guys tomorrow." She gathered her things and stuffed them in her bag.

"Bye!"

"We won't miss you!"

Ice blue eyes were narrowed as she mock-glared at Jasmine, who just smiled innocently. Violet headed out of the common room and into the quarters she shared with her father.

"Dad?" She yelled as soon as she had said the password. No response. That was weird. She frowned as she made her way towards the adjacent door to Severus' office. It was shut tight, he usually left it open. Her frown deepened.

"Dad?" she called again. Still no answer. She slowly opened the door to his bedroom, maybe he was taking a nap. His room was not like you would think it to be. It was not cold, it was not menacing. It radiated a feeling of coziness, the dungeon's stone wall smoothed over and painted a light beige, with coffee colored wooden furniture. The only Slytherin part of the room was the bed, with emerald green sheets and silver hangings. He was not there. A tumor of worry started to grow in her mind. Where was he? The now extremely concerned girl walked into her own room, it painted a light lavender (Her name was Violet, what did you expect?) with sea foam green sheets and a semi-see through white curtain around her four-poster. The only place left would be... she smacked herself in the forehead. He was in the kitchen or the living room, probably so immersed in some potion work that he didn't hear her. It wasn't like it hadn't happened before. The seventh year felt a sense of relief, believing it with all her heart that he was just sitting at their round oak table, grading papers, or reading a potion's journal, and then would look up, smile at her, ask her how her day was like any other normal parent. She couldn't have been more wrong. Severus Snape was_not_ at the table grading papers, the only thing that stood out to his daughter was a scrap of parchment with his handwriting on it. She grabbed and hastily scanned the contents._  
><em>

_Violet,_

_He called. Have the normal potions ready when I get home._

_Potter has a detention at 5. He fell asleep. Make him do whatever you think will work._

_Love,_

_Dad_

The note was messy, indicating that he was in a rush. _He _called. That would only mean... Voldemort. The snake faced horror. The normal potions included the Anti-Cruciatus, Blood-Replenisher, Dreamless Sleep, and many other healing potions. It was self-explanatory that Severus did not know when he would be able to come back, but Violet could guarantee that she would be awake by then, ready to make sure that her father was fixed up before she even considered going to bed. Now she had to oversee Potter's detention. What was she supposed to make him do? He was supposed to be there in exactly... two minutes.

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><p>Harry was not looking forward to his detention with the greasy bat. When he had finally realized that he had neglected to tell Ron and Hermione about it, both of them freaked. The trio was now back to skirting around each other, hesitant every time they talked to each other. Just when things seemed to be getting better too. He cast a quick <em>Tempus <em>before cursing. He was late for detention, meaning he would most likely get another one. Actually, make that he would most definitely get another one. Hermione was going to be so mad... He ran the remainder of the way toward's Snape's office. He knocked quickly and heard a voice invite him in.

What he saw was not what he was expecting. Violet was sitting behind the Potions Master's desk, her face an unreadable mask, completely different from when they first met.

"Well Potter, welcome to detention. Let's get started, shall we?"

She sounded so horribly like the Snape. This was going to fun.

Not.

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><p><strong>I AM SO SORRY ONCE AGAIN<strong>

**1) I have not updated in about 1 month and a half**

**2) This chapter is too short**

**PLEASE FORGIVE ME**

**The next one shall be the detention... DUN DUN DUN**

**-The Epic Sparkles**


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